


laying out my winter clothes

by Liviapenn



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Chromatic Character, Episode: s02e03 Runner, Gen, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-23
Updated: 2006-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviapenn/pseuds/Liviapenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronon decides to stay. Takes place directly after the end of "Runner."</p>
            </blockquote>





	laying out my winter clothes

For a moment he doesn't understand. The building in the foreground is similar to the great observatory in Sathidia's capital-- it's like the view you'd see from the Ring of the Ancestors. But it's not right, not the same. Fury floods his veins. Do these people think he'll really be fooled by such a cheap illusion? It's all wrong, the cityscape confused and the buildings dull with dust instead of gleaming, silver. There are no banners, no trees. This can't be Sathidia. If they'd really sent a machine through the ring of the Ancestors, people would have noticed, there would be soldiers-- where are the *people*--

Ronon swallows, and the truth slides home like a knife into his throat.

He doesn't remember turning away, making his way to the balcony. He comes back to himself when his hands begin to cramp, locked around the railing. He loosens his grip, blinking against the sunlight that flashes, blinding, off the waves.

He senses the guards somewhere behind him. They smell familiar: gun oil, metal and sweat. Sheppard is the same, but with a forest-scent as well, and he moves with stealth. Ronon hears the guards move aside for Sheppard before he hears Sheppard's footsteps at all.

He thinks about turning, casually. If he kept his eyes down he could get close enough to break Sheppard's nose with a blow. Take his knife, lunge for the guards-- Sheppard's people seem well-trained. It would probably be quick.

"Give me a reason," he says, without turning.

Sheppard says nothing.

"I ran, but I never-- I knew that I would return. Someday. Sathidia was--" He has not used his voice this much in years. He can't quite control it. He stops.

Far below them the ocean is very loud.

"We're going to fight the Wraith," Sheppard says, after a short silence. "And I don't just mean we're going to protect our people or this city. Sooner or later, most likely sooner, it's going to be them or us. I kind of plan on it being us." There is no patience in his voice, no sympathy.

Ronon tries not to flinch as Sheppard moves closer and leans on the rail next to him. "You could be useful in a big way," he says. "I'd like it if you could brief us on the planets you've visited, the Wraith tactics and strategies you've observed."

Ronon nods. He does owe these people something, for taking the tracker out of his back. He failed to bring back their lost man, but he can do this.

"It might take a while." Sheppard says, and now he does sound apologetic. He turns away from the rail, then glances back. "You hungry? C'mon."

They fed him earlier, in the room with the barred windows. A plain sandwich of meat and bread, a bottle of clear water. He barely tasted it. He's still hungry.

He follows Sheppard, and the guards follow him.


End file.
